


Two Left Feet

by startrekkingaroundasgard



Series: Clint Barton Bingo [5]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Dancing, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-18 20:55:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19342468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/startrekkingaroundasgard/pseuds/startrekkingaroundasgard
Summary: Clint asks Bucky to teach him how to dance and the reader walks in on their secret lessons.





	Two Left Feet

There was no worse way to spend your afternoon than stuck beneath a pile of paperwork. It was a task that got passed around between the team after every mission and this just happened to be your unlucky day. You’d drawn the short straw and ended up with the task of filling in all the reports which detailed in painful accuracy how and why the operation had gone so terribly wrong.

It wasn’t exactly enjoyable work, detailing the failures of your team. As such you had been praying for some kind of intervention, divine or otherwise, to save you from the mundane task. Finally, it had come in the form of one of your favourite songs, baring out from elsewhere in the Compound. With the view of telling whoever was responsible for the noise to turn it down (but really just grateful for the distraction), you stepped outside and tried to pinpoint the source.

You followed the beautiful melody down the hallway and came to a stop outside Clint’s door, unsurprised that it was the source of the music. Whilst he liked to pretend that he wasn’t, hiding behind his dry wit and manly muscles, Clint was a softie at heart. He listened to all of your favourite songs when you weren’t around to feel close to you. Others on the team teased him for it but he didn’t care what they thought of him.

The door was slightly ajar so all it took was a gentle push to open it and reveal your boyfriend - in the arms of another. In the arms of none other than Bucky Barnes.

Silently, you edged inside and hovered against the wall, arms folded over your chest, lips turned up in a lazy smirk. Neither man had seen or heard you enter, too focused in their activity, and you were quite content to leave it that way. This was a sight behold and you were half tempted to pull out your phone and record it for future blackmailing material.

You’d never seen anything quite like it. An utter disaster would be a kind way of describing it. Completely out of time to the music, Bucky was - for some reason - teaching Clint to dance.

His large metal hand was splayed on Clint’s back, fingers practically clawing at the fabric of Clint’s shirt as Bucky tried to keep his composure. Bucky’s lips were close to Clint’s ear and from a distance they appeared to be dancing cheek to cheek - a surprisingly cute couple, well balanced with Bucky’s naturally dark and moody expression and Clint’s wide eyed, puppy like excitement turned panic - but you knew it was just so Clint could hear his instructions over the loud music. At least that was what you hoped was happening.

For a man who could be so graceful in the field, dancing was not one of Clint’s natural talents. He constantly tripped over Bucky’s feet and was incapable of telling left from right. After being trodden on for the fifth time, he threw his hands in the air and dramatically hopped up and down, rubbing the offended foot as if it had been run over by a truck. “I give up! This is impossible!”

“You’re doing fine. You just need to practise, come on.” Bucky caught Clint’s hand and twirled him back into hold. It was all you could do to bite your tongue and not laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation. “Now, you put your hands where mine were before. One on the back, just below the shoulder blade - don’t dig beneath it, you’re dancing not trying to incapacitate her - and hold the other. Yes, just like that. Good. You’re the leader now, the man, so -”

“I wasn’t the man before?” Clint exclaimed, shoving Bucky backwards into the wall. There was no real aggression in the push or you would have instantly stepped in to stop them but you still winced as the larger man hit the hard surface. Both men were stronger than they realised and you feared for the furniture should they start truly fighting. “You were teaching me the woman’s steps?”

“Well, you look so good in a dress,” Bucky replied, face still stoic but eyes twinkling. It was easy to forget amid the constant guilt and reclusion but Bucky did have a wicked sense of humour.

“That was one time. And I only took that mission because none of you had the legs to pull it off.”

It was true. Clint had been the only one with legs good enough to pull off that dress. You were fairly sure he’d kept it too, shoved it deep in the back of the cupboard where it was hidden away but never forgotten. Who knew how often he pranced around in it.

Hands in the air, Bucky apologised. “I just figured that Y/N would be the one that took charge and you’d be the follower. Was I wrong?”

“Probably not,” Clint sighed. He wasn’t upset that you were a tougher person than him, more that Bucky was right. The men were friends - evidenced by this impromptu dance class; only friends taught each other to dance - but they never enjoyed admitting the other was right.

Backing up into the middle of the room, he held his arms up in basic posture position and urged Bucky to help him try again. “Come on then, Buck. Let’s get this right.”

“I was getting it right. It was you who kept getting in the way.”

“Shut up and make me a good dancer for Y/N.”

“Can I ask why it matters? Y/N loves you already.”

Clint shrugged. “I just… I don’t know. We get dragged along to all these ridiculous functions and parties and everyone else knows how to dance properly with their partners. I feel bad for embarrassing Y/N every time we try to dance and I end up bashing into other people or falling down the stairs or something. I want to be a man Y/N is proud to be seen with. Not some stupid mess.”

You were genuinely touched by how seriously Clint wanted to learn to dance for you and decided to leave them in peace. Slowly backing away towards the door, you caught your foot on a pair of discarded trousers and stumbled. You managed to right yourself before falling flat on your face but made quite the noise in the process - which, naturally, finally alerted the men to your presence.

They leapt apart, turning away from each other and shoving their hands in their pockets. Clint kept the pretence up for a few seconds before realising you might actually have been hurt. He ran over to you and helped you upright, checking you over for injuries. “Are you okay?”

“I’m great,” you said, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “You wanna tell me what you’re up to?”

“It’s, uh, not what it looked like?”

“Oh, that’s okay then. There I was thinking Bucky was teaching you to dance when really you’re having a secret affair under my nose. That’s so much better.” You shot the soldier a sideways glance, catching him wink at you as he slipped out the room to give you both some privacy. You’d make sure to thank him later for being such a decent friend.

“How long were you standing there?”

“Long enough.” You slipped your arms around Clint’s waist and pulled him closer, nuzzling his neck as the beautiful melody washed over you both. There was nowhere you’d rather be than here in your boyfriend’s arms. His strong muscles flexing beneath your fingertips. His warm breath on your skin. The intoxicating smell of his aftershave. If there was a heaven, this was it.

He held you tightly against his chest and kissed your neck, whispered sweet promises in your ear that sent shivers down your spine. You weren’t really dancing, just swaying back and forth in time to your own music. Not the song that was playing, the soulful melody in your hearts that only you could hear.

“I love you, sugar,” Clint murmured. “Sorry I’m not a better dancer.”

You pulled back and caught his face in your hands, punctuating your words with gentle kisses. “You. Are. Perfect. This is perfect. I love you, Clint. Two left feet and all. Don’t ever forget that.”


End file.
